


The Last Resort

by Donna_Immaculata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donna_Immaculata/pseuds/Donna_Immaculata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written before HBP, and set between GoF and OotP: The headquarters are being set up and Snape and Black are forced to see each other more often that they would wish for. Fighting for dominance occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Resort

"... and there's the traitor, coming and going in my mistress's house as he pleases, Kreacher knows he betrayed the Dark Lord, but he can't stop him from entering the house, oh no, not when master lets him in, disgraceful nasty bastard master is, not worthy of baring the noble name of Black. Coming back from Azkaban where he belonged, he and his bunch of blood traitors and half-breeds, to befoul his mother's house. Oh his poor mother, how -"

"Silencio."

The cold silky voice cut short the house-elf's muttering, who pressed his hands to his wide-open mouth in horror, his pale eyes bulging.

"I'll see myself inside, no need to trouble you longer", Severus Snape said smoothly proceeding towards the kitchen door in long strides. "I assume your... master is in there, helping himself to the supply of Old Ogden's and having a jolly good time with his friend Fletcher." He threw the door open, glaring menacingly inside.

His glare, however, was wasted on a few Doxys who, banished from the upper rooms, had widely retreated to the kitchen, and were now fighting for the best nesting places in the old, threadbare curtains. Snape eyed them for a moment.

"Pathetic", he muttered, turning away. "Elf! I need you to fetch your master. And stop pulling faces on me or I shall make the Silencing Charm permanent", he added with a dirty look at the terrified Kreacher who was writhing on the floor, frantically opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Pointing his wand at the elf, Snape muttered "Finite Incantatem", and prodded Kreacher with the tip of his wand. "Well? What are you waiting for? Bring me to your master. Now!"

Kreacher nodded mutely and hurried to the stairs, closely followed by Snape, whose swishing cloak caused whole armadas of decade-old dust to rise from the floor.

The distance to Buckbeak's quarters in Mrs. Black's old bedroom was covered in complete silence, and the satisfaction of having taught the elf a lesson almost made Snape smile. But he settled for his customary sneer instead when Kreacher opened the door for him and scurried away hurriedly, starting muttering curses as soon as he though he was out of earshot.

The sweetish stench of blood and rotting meat hit his sinuses with a heavy blow and Snape gagged. He recovered in time, though, and assumed his most haughty expression before stepping into the once magnificent, now decaying room. The Hippogriff lay on the bed, half hidden behind the remainder of the curtains, and next to the beast lay... well, the other beast. Padfoot was curled up in a tight ball, pressed against the Hippogriff's side, and Snape had just time enough to marvel on the unique opportunity to throw the insult in Black's face that he was sleeping with his nose pressed against his own bottom, when the dog raised his head and leapt from the bed, changing smoothly into a man in mid-jump.

"Das also ist des Pudels Kern", Snape recited at the sight of the other man's pale face framed by dark untidy hair. Black's eyes were glowing from their deep sockets and his entire appearance was, indeed, more than Mephistophelic.

"Whom do you call a poodle?" he growled in a hoarse voice.

Snape's upper lip curled up unpleasantly. "I should have known that you wouldn't be familiar with the finest in world literature", he said silkily. "Although one might have thought that she", he made a wide gesture indicating the room, "would have developed a more holistic approach to your education as to make you at least somewhat of an accomplished gentleman."

Black stared at him in silence, and for a few minutes, both men glared daggers at each other. Their mute battle was interrupted by Buckbeak, whose strange sneezing noise made both men jump, wands raised.

Black spoke first. "Surely, you don't grace me with your presence to discuss literature with me, Snape? What is it this time? Are you here to whine about how you're forced to associate with your Death Eater friends - the only friends you've ever had in your life, I might add - and how your former acquaintances are now giving you a hard time? Or is there actually a point in your harassing me?"

"Believe me, I can think of hundreds of other places I'd rather be than this... den", Snape looked around in disgust, "but unfortunately, while you are spending your time most comfortably in safety and seclusion, I am risking my life on a daily basis to gather information that will help Dumbledore -" he broke off at the expression of Black's bloodless, hollow face, while the other man was advancing at him, holding his wand in an outstretched hand.

"Spare me!" Black spat. "Just tell me whatever it is and get out of my house! Unlike you, I've never formed acquaintances among Voldemort's lot, who would now be in position to save my arse from his wrath!"

"No, you never have", purred Snape silkily, his eyes firmly at Black's wand tip that was sending off red sparks. "Your friends have always been above any suspicion. Oh, but I forgot", he tilted his head and stared directly into Black's eyes, "you have suspected the werewolf once, haven't you? And have decided to trust your friend Pettigrew instead. That must have made you immensely proud of your own cleverness - for about ten minutes!"

In the next moment, Snape threw his head back, narrowly avoiding being hit by the curse Black had sent his way. His own wand arm had come up in a flash and his "Expelliarmus!" sent Black flying backwards and stumbling to the floor. However, Black had grasped a handful of Snape's robes and pulled the other man back with him. They landed on the floor in a cloud of dust.

Black's head hit the ground with a loud thud, but, unlike Snape, after two years on the run he was more accustomed to the concept of physical attacks and reacted instinctively within an instance. Flexing his muscles, he arched off the floor and rolled over and atop Snape. Snape's head collided painfully with the bedstead, causing Buckbeak to toss his head irritably with a soft, croaking sound. A gnawed rat bone fell from the bed and landed next to Snape's face.

"Sharing your meals with the beast, are you", Snape panted in a raspy voice, hardly able to breathe with his ribcage being squashed by Black. "But then again - your taste for monsters has always been legendary..."

Black's left hand entangled itself in Snape's greasy hair and he made a sudden movement as though trying to push the other's head up and crash his skull against the floor, but at this very moment, an ear-splitting cry pierced the silence as Mrs. Black's portrait sprang to life.

They were too far away to distinguish single words, but the high-pitched screams, easily penetrating the more sensitive ears of a Hippogriff, made Buckbeak leap up on his bed and start screeching angrily.

Looking slightly embarrassed, Black loosened his grip on Snape and slowly rose to his feet. Snape hoisted himself into a sitting position, rubbing his elbow with a pained expression on his face, and his eyes fell on the doorway. He froze.

Black turned his head around sharply and saw Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in the door, gaping at the scene displayed before their eyes with identically incredulous expression on their faces.

Snape moved first. Snakelike, he glided to his feet and brushed himself off, flicking his black hair out of his eyes, thin-lipped and silent. Lupin cleared his throat.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Black and Lupin uttered the question in unison. Shacklebolt's mouth twitched suspiciously.

"We heard shouts and what sounded like some serious fighting", explained Lupin, while Black turned his attention to Buckbeak, getting hold of his leather collar and trying to pat his neck in a comforting manner. "We didn't realise that it was only you two having a friendly conversation." Black cast him a venomous glance.

"If you are quite finished", Snape said, brushing past Shacklebolt who was still standing quietly in the door, "I would rather like a word, downstairs. It concerns you, too", he added with a look at Lupin and disappeared in the dim hallway.

Buckbeak's mismatched feet hit the floor with a shattering noise in the Hippogriff's vain attempt to free himself from Black's grip. "Get out of here!" the man growled angrily at Shacklebolt and Lupin, who had started towards him to help handling the animal. The portrait downstairs was still wailing and shouting in blood-freezing tones, and on top of everything, the general mayhem suddenly got penetrated by Kreacher's insane babbling as the elf stopped in the hall muttering insults under his breath. Black snapped.

"Get out of here! Out! OUT!" he roared, face contorted with rage. He continued tagging on the Hippogriff's collar while at the same time, trying to shove both Lupin and Shacklebolt away with his free hand. Buckbeak reared and the worn leather snapped. His deadly talons clawed the air and he flattered his mighty wings helplessly, constricted by walls and ceiling. Black pushed Lupin hard in the chest and sent him tumbling into Shacklebolt, who was already retreating towards the door, both hands raised in an appeasing gesture.

Lupin's eyes flashed. He leapt forward and smashed Black against the wall with a dull thud. "You listen to me now! You won't let out your frustration on any of us!" His voice was barely more than a whisper, but with each word, he was crashing Black against wooden panelling with a brutality that threatened to crush Black's spine.

None of them noticed when Shacklebolt left.

II.

Severus Snape was standing by the kitchen table and his straight posture and disgusted expression were clearly indicating that he was afraid of contaminating himself at the mere contact with any part of the Blacks' kitchen interior. Even his breathing was shallow as though he thought the surrounding air was toxic. Shacklebolt had positioned himself by the mantelpiece, his tall, dark-clad figure successfully fading into the shadow. Both men were ignoring each other pointedly.

Lupin and Black entered the room a few minutes later. Black let his long unkempt hair deliberately fall into his face and only his eyes were burning from behind the dark veil, while Lupin held his head up high, his face carefully blank. Snape's expression turned even more acidic.

"Sit down", Snape said in a strained voice and with a grimace which indicated that talking to them caused him physical pain; he barely moved his teeth apart. Black's jaw line went rigid and he squared his shoulders, but remained silent. He did not sit down, though.

Lupin and Shacklebolt likewise decided that sitting would create an atmosphere of too much camaraderie. For a few minutes, all four men remained silent, throwing hostile, calculating looks at one another.

"Very well", Snape said at last. "As you all know well enough, I was asked by Dumbledore to re-inaugurate some older connections, which will allow me to gather information about the status quo of the preparations in the Dark Lord's camp."

"Spy, you mean. We all know the word, you sneaky bastard! How often have you changed side, I wonder? How often will you?"

Snape chose to haughtily ignore Black's remark, but his right hand twitched suspiciously towards the pocket holding his wand. "Not much information has been gained yet. I learned, however, that the Dark Lord's supporters know exactly about the oh-so-clever disguise he", with a nod towards Black, "has used so successfully. It would therefore not be advisable for him to leave this place unless he wants to end up in the hands of people who would gladly deliver him to either Fudge or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, both of which alternatives would surely be less than pleasant."

"Are you saying that I'm to continue hiding here, in this godforsaken place, while everyone else is out there, doing useful work for the Order?" Black snorted incredulously.

"I am saying no such thing", Snape's voice was smooth and sweet as honey. "It's Dumbledore's wish you shall remain unhurt. Merlin knows why", he added under his breath. "Apparently, he thinks you could be useful after all, in some way or another. He also seems to think that the Potter boy could do with an, ah, responsible father figure."

"This is all very well", Lupin said, interrupting Snape's silky gloating. "But surely, this is not the reason why you wanted us to meet you here. An owl would have done for this piece of news!"

"Your friend Pettigrew has apparently launched a little - well, I suppose you could say 'hunt' - to get rid of all people who knew about his Animagus form - and don't give me that look", he said sharply as Lupin opened his mouth to speak. "It seems Pettigrew wasn't very good at keeping secrets after all. He had bragged in front of his brother that he could turn into a rat, and Merlin knows where this guy let it slip in turn! I wasn't able to determine who else knows of Black's canine talents, but there's a considerable risk that Pettigrew didn't remain silent on this matter, either."

"His brother, then", Shacklebolt's deep soothing voice reverberated through the room. "I don't think he had the opportunity to tell it many people. We have been observing him since Sirius's escape. He seemed a likely victim", he explained in a steady voice meeting Black's eyes levelly, "you were supposedly deranged and murderous."

Black's mouth curled up in a brief mirthless smile.

"He was a Squib, wasn't he", Lupin said pensively. "It seems very unlikely that anyone would believe his story, in any case - as far as I know he went to live with Muggles. Became a taxi driver. His father never quite recovered from the shock."

"How do you know all these things?" Black asked astounded. Lupin smiled.

"I did listen to Peter, you know, Sirius", he said calmly.

"Not well enough, apparently", Black bristled at the unspoken approach. "You should have paid more attention to what he was saying and to whom he was saying it -"

"As fascinating as it is to witness your reminiscent get-together", cut in Snape, "it'll do for now. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time for a friendly chat later.

"As I was saying, Pettigrew's brother was aware of the secret. Consequently, he had to die. It would be highly unwise of your friend to let him stay alive - he could have been used as a witness to release Black from his charges."

"If you don't stop calling him our friend this instant, I swear I will feed your foul tongue to Buckbeak", Black said in a very low and even voice.

"One day", Lupin's voice sounded uncharacteristically venomous, "I will gladly watch you two having a go at each other. At the moment, however, we cannot afford losing either of you, so would you please keep your hostility at bay as much possible."

Shacklebolt raised one eyebrow, surprised at Lupin's unusual edginess, and turned to Snape. "You spoke of a 'hunt'. This implies there are more people Pettigrew will want to silent. Do you know of any?"

"As I said, I haven't gathered any more information regarding individual victims yet. But I thought it wisest to inform you before the next meeting of the Order that the Animagus secrets are no longer quite as secret. Some people", a nasty glance at Black, "are known to act on impulse and might find it tempting to take unnecessary risks. And we have to create a plan that will help us save the lives of people who might just have been unfortunate enough to be among Pettigrew's listeners. Can you two think of anyone he was in touch with?"

Snape and Lupin exchanged a long look. Black shifted uncomfortably, sighed and sat down heavily, flattening his palms against the worn surface of the table. "I don't know. He didn't have many friends, at school. And later - we weren't that much in touch, only through the Order, really. But it isn't very likely he told anyone in the Order, especially if he was already working for Voldemort. You're better informed, Remus, can you think of anyone he could have spoken to?"

Lupin shook his head and followed Black's example to take a seat. "Members of the Order are obviously quite out of the question. We don't know anything about his contacts among Voldemort's supporters, obviously, and they know about Padfoot and Wormtail anyway. He was seeing this girl, just before I went to the Continent - you know, on this mission for Dumbledore - but I don't remember her name. Clarissa, I think... No. Larissa."

"Wormtail was seeing a girl? Now, that's news", Black made no effort to mask the sarcasm in his voice. "But he surely didn't show her the rat if he tried to impress her. It would be rather counterproductive."

"Does Voldemort believe the story Kingsley was feeding the Daily Prophet about Sirius's having been spotted in, what, Honolulu?" Lupin cut in quickly before Snape could open his mouth to speak.

"I don't think so. Believe it or not, Black isn't the Dark Lord's main concern. He frankly doesn't care much about what Black is doing."

"I'll try to find out about Pettigrew's contacts. After his assumed death, the Ministry had compiled a record about him and I'm sure I can gain access to it," said Shacklebolt.

"That's exactly why I wanted an Auror to be informed - you can act where none of us can. I'm done. I found it important to tell you about the danger resulting in Pettigrew's secret-keeping abilities straightaway, and I was asked by Albus to make Black realise the danger he's in when he leaves the house, but the rest can wait until the next meeting. There's nothing more that concerns you directly."

Shacklebolt nodded a curt 'Goodbye' and was gone, closely followed by Snape, who did not waste the opportunity to offer Black a last disdainful look. Lupin and Black remained alone.

"Sirius -"

"Spare me, Remus. Just - spare me!" Black rose up so suddenly that his chair crashed to the floor. "I'm going to feed Buckbeak."

The kitchen door slammed shut behind him. Lupin remained seated for a long time, staring into the falling darkness with unseeing eyes.

III.

"Oh. Look what the elf dragged in."

"The pleasure's all mine. As you understand, I'm not particularly interested in remaining in this house any minute longer than necessary. I'll only write a report for Albus and be gone."

Snape had entered the kitchen unceremoniously and seated himself at the table from where he glared down at Black, who half-lay on the floor in front of the fireplace with a glass of whisky in his hand. Black ignored him.

For a few minutes, the scrapping of quill on parchment was the only noise. Snape was writing swiftly, showing Black his right profile with the long hooked nose and the determined chin. He stopped on the soft sound of ice cubes tinkling against glass.

Black had just helped himself to more whisky and was putting down the bottle, when Snape spoke in a voice laden with sweet mock-concern: "How you can go so long with nothing else to do than drinking your mother's supply of Firewhisky is beyond me."

"How you can go so long without washing your hair is beyond me." Black was just drunk enough to deliver the insult in an absurdly polite tone. He shifted a little, propped himself back on his elbows and, tilting his head back, observed Snape from half-lidded eyes.

A thin cruel smile appeared on Snape's mouth. "Your hair wouldn't exactly win you any contest, either", he whispered softly. "I remember that used to be different, once. Tell me, Black, what is it like to have a hollow, emaciated phantom look back at oneself in the mirror?"

"Look who's asking. You know the answer to this question well enough, Snape."

"This might well be. But unlike yourself, I have never been a reputed beauty. I understand the loss might weight rather heavily." Talking, Snape had leaned forward until the hem of his cloak brushed against Black's foot. Black's bare foot, which now kicked against the leg of Snape's chair. Black gave a short laugh and placed his foot back on the floor, his legs slightly wider apart than before. Snape watched him expressionlessly.

"Care for a drink?"

"Excuse me?"

"Care for a drink? Surely you don't refuse a glass of good old Old Ogden's?"

"Why would I want to drink with you?"

"Whom else have you got to drink with?"

An odd expression flickered across Snape's face and Black knew he had a point.

Snape shrugged. "All right." He watched Black Summon a clean glass and pour in the whisky before he spoke again. "You must be rather desperate if you are prepared to drink with me. Is Lupin not hanging around?"

Black's face tensed. "You leave Remus out of this. This is between the two of us."

"Very well. I have no desire to talk about the werewolf tonight." He looked expectantly at Black. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, aren't you giving me my drink?"

"You have to come and get it, you know."

Snape gave a derisive snort. "If you expect me to -" he broke off sneering down at Black and reached out his arm. Black shifted again, stretching his long body slightly, and his hand holding the glass disappeared from Snape's reach

Snape took up the challenge. He slid off his chair and, supporting his weight on his left arm, grabbed the glass with his right hand. He raised the glass, but made no effort to raise himself from the floor. Instead, he remained looming over Black.

Black had been watching him lazily. He never broke the eye contact when Snape knocked back his drink, but tilted his head back even more, his lips slightly apart.

"Don't you want raise a toast with me?"

Snape's black eyes narrowed maliciously. "You really are desperate, aren't you", he said very softly, a trace of triumph in his voice. "What else do you want me to do with you, I wonder?"

Slowly, he inched closer, until his slighter form was draped over Black's without quite touching, until he could see the frantic pulse on Black's white, exposed neck. Black remained silent, only his pale eyes glowed feverishly.

"I could feel you, you know", Snape continued in the same soft, oddly warm tone.

Black took a sip of his drink. "Feel me? What do you mean?"

"The day we fought. I could feel you." He snorted derisively. "Merlin, how desperate can one get?"

Black shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that he was trapped and that every movement would cause him to brush against Snape, whose thin body was radiating far too much heat.

"I'm not sure -" his sentence was lost in a half-gasp half-yelp when Snape's abandoned glass rolled away and Snape's hand pressed firmly onto his crotch, squeezing not-too gently.

"Who would have thought this - Sirius Black craving for human touch strongly enough to get hard for Severus Snape", said Snape thoughtfully, moving his hand around.

"Don't push it, Snape", Black warned through clenched teeth.

"I'm not pushing", Snape said with a grim smile. "You are."

Too late, Black realised that his hips had lifted on their own accord, carrying his groin into Snape's grip.

In the next moment, Snape let out a strangled groan, as he was thrown over and on his back, and Black effectively immobilised his legs by straddling him with a swiftness that was both unexpected and horrifying in a man who looked more dead than alive. Black's right forearm pressed hard against Snape's throat, while his left hand worked frantically in the folds of his robes, ripping the buttons of Snape's fly apart. Black moved down in an amazing speed, shifted his hand to apply a tight grip around Snape's throat and hold him in place, and as he swallowed Snape's cock whole, he felt the soft flesh instantly spring to life in his mouth.

Snape's hands that had entangled themselves in Black's hair in the vain attempt to yank his head away went suddenly limp as some particularly fervent sucking coaxed his cock to full hardness.

Black lifted his head a fraction. "Enjoying yourself, you bastard?" he managed to growl with his lips around the tip of Snape's cock.

"Black. Ah. Stop."

"Not very convincing, sorry", muttered Black, lowering his head again. His tongue slid all the way down along the vein throbbing on the sensitive underside, and Snape gave a long, shuddering, strangled moan.

Black hummed in response, sending more shivers through the other man's body. He was sucking forcefully in order to prevent Snape from catching his breath and therefore come back to his senses. When his teeth scraped against the delicate skin, the sharp intake of breath and a short yelp told him he had caused Snape pain, and he doubled his efforts.

Black's free hand was wrapped around the base of Snape's cock, while at the same time, he was clutching Snape's throat firmly with his other one, and he fisted in time to his suction. His hand was slick with saliva, and the bitter flavour in his mouth told him that Snape's pre-come was adding considerably to the wetness that was running down all the way down his cock, over Black's fingers, wrist, and disappearing in the thick thatch of dark hair.

The laboured breathing increased, and Snape's hips jerked up involuntarily once, twice, before Black felt the sharp, stinging fluid flooding his mouth and pulled his head away quickly, wiping his mouth with the hand that had at last released Snape's throat. Some semen had got into his mouth, though, and he decided to spit it out on Snape's cock as long as the man was still shaken by the aftermath of his orgasm. A thin, sticky thread clinging to his chin glued a strand of hair to his face. Black wiped it away harshly.

Snape's choked moans had turned into dry coughs and he was rubbing his throat with a pained grimace on his face while sitting up dizzily. Black was sitting back on his heels, staring fixedly at Snape.

"What was this all about, Black" Snape spat, equally shaken by anger and by painful coughs, dark bruises already showing where Black's fingers had dug into his skin. Black stood up and poured in a glass of water.

"Not that I expected post-coital sweet talk", he said, relishing how the fresh, cool water was washing away all traces of the sharp taste, "but some gratitude would be in order, don't you think?"

"Gratitude?! You arrogant bastard, you... you use me as a means to satisfy your depraved desires, and expect me to be grateful? Who do you think you are? Who do you think I am?"

Snape had raised himself into an upright position and was adjusting his spent cock in his trousers. With a flick of his wand, the fluid sticking hair and material together was removed from his crotch and the buttons of his fly restored. Silent coughs continued sending violent tremors through his body, and his pale throat looked more bruised than ever.

"I think you are a sick individual whose levels of depravity easily match mine, seeing as it was you who came in a fountain on my kitchen floor", Black felt his temper rising in spite of himself. He put the glass on the table with a clatter, causing water to splash over the brim and on the table. "Don't tell me you didn't want it. Don't tell me you were grabbing my cock because it disgusts you."

Snape summoned the glass of water Black had abandoned and stood up. "You disgust me, Black", he whispered, his eyes narrowed. "Now excuse me, I've got a report to write. Some of us have actually work to do."

Without a further word, Black turned on his heels and left the kitchen, carefully making sure that the door slammed shut with a loud bang.

Taking several steps at one time, he arrived upstairs slightly out of breath, freeing his cock from his trousers even before he was all the way in his room. He leaned heavily against the locked door, rested his forehead on his forearm and watched his hand fist his own cock hard and fast and when he came painfully and silently, breathing very fast through his nose, all he could think was 'Snape, Snape, Snape, Snape.'

IV.

Snape's mouth was twisted in a grim, joyless smile when he approached the dingy little pub in Theydon Bois. It was a perverted irony of fate that he should wish to go back to this damn place of this bastard, a place which, on top of everything, was currently serving as a shelter for the werewolf, the whole Weasley clan, and, since very recently, that annoying Granger girl. And yet, on this humid August night, when breathing was almost impossible in the sticky, oppressive air, he found himself thinking longingly of the dim coolness of Black's basement kitchen. He wasn't thinking longingly of Black, of course. He was glad to see him only sporadically, during the meetings of the Order, and never alone. Thank Merlin, since their fateful, shattering, disgusting encounter five weeks ago, the opportunity for a tête-à-tête has never occurred again.

He had put on a considerable fight when Albus had asked - had commanded - him to try and find out about Peter Pettigrew's whereabouts, assuming that getting a hold of Pettigrew could be a way to finally approach the Dark Lord, as well. An additional advantage - from Albus' rather questionable point of view - was the fact that Pettigrew was the witness required to clear Black from all charges.

In the course of long weeks, he had patiently combed his network of informants: former Voldemort sympathisers, revenge-seeking family members of ex-Death Eaters who had fallen out of the Dark Lord's favour and have been dealt with - people who had reason to hate the Dark Lord even more fervently than the righteous lot around Black, Potter, and the werewolf, whose triumphant virtue was more sickening than the cruel manipulations of a Lucius Malfoy - until he finally received a hint.

He had been pointed in the direction of this particular pub by the widow of a man who died a gruesome death from the hands of Rosier, and she was ready to swear that Pettigrew had been spotted there every now and then, in his capacity as errand boy on the lookout for potential cannon fodder for the Dark Lord's camp. Snape wasn't surprised that, when he had reported about his several futile visits to the place, Black had snorted sarcastically and said that Pettigrew was very unlikely to be prancing around in public. The werewolf, however, whose capability of common sense Snape had grudgingly come to admire, had said that a man who had been declared dead fifteen years ago and who had changed beyond recognition in the course of these years could safely enter a pub where the majority of patrons had something to hide - preferably their identity and past.

Snape entered the pub feeling rather morose and hopeless. Apart from a drink or two, there was nothing he would gain from this visit. The woman's information had been less than reliable, and it was only due to Albus' cheerful optimism that he was forced to pop in twice a week, on the nights when there was no meeting of the Order and when he was not meeting up with his contacts among the Death Eaters.

However, the moment he sat down at the bar, the hood of his cloak pulled deeply into his face, he felt a strange prickling sensation in his forearm that told him some other person with a very active Dark Mark was sitting in close proximity.

Snape did not startle. He coldly took the drink of cheap whisky from the bartenders hand, breathed in deeply to steady himself and turned around casually to scan his surroundings for a possible Death Eater in an unsuspicious way. He was sure, the other man must feel it, too, but none of the patrons appeared unusually agitated or wary. Of course, whoever the other bearer of the Dark Mark might be, he had the great advantage over Snape that he had seen him coming in and knew that it was him who elicited the reaction.

His long fingers wrapped around the glass, he twirled the amber liquid around lazily, while his gaze wandered apparently aimlessly through the room. A sudden movement in the left-hand corner, just behind the bar, caught his attention. Snape turned his head sharply and spotted, just in time, the cowered figure of a man who tried to sneak out unseen.

The glass shattered to the floor as Snape let go of it abruptly. He slid from the stool and was gone with a swish of his robes.

The backdoor swung shut gently, and Snape glided, ghost-like, into the shadows under the tall trees. His senses heightened, he could feel rather than see a movement behind the blackberry bush, as though something were scurrying away hurriedly. Reacting within a heartbeat, he pointed his wand in this direction and whispered "Stupefy!"

Nothing happened. A few moments later, Snape moved cautiously out of the shadows and crossed the distance to the bush in three long strides. He came to a halt in a half-crouch and cast a narrow beam of light to scan the ground.

The blow came unexpectedly.

Snape was knocked off his feet and his breath was knocked out of him by the force of the impact from nowhere. His right knee collided with the ground in a painful angle and his face got slammed into the mud, but he did not lose his grip on his wand and, pointing it over his shoulder, cried 'Stupefy'. The body behind him went limp and slid off him and onto the ground.

It took Snape several seconds to wipe off the mud obscuring his view and to raise himself up, and when he did so, he was presented the unconscious form of Sirius Black, lying sprawled on the ground. Snape gaped.

For one moment, his inner Slytherin urged him to abandon all appearances of civility and simply kick the defenceless Black in the kidneys. Hard. His better instincts won the short internal struggle, and also, there was the issue of what-the-hell was Black doing there? Only Black could give the answer to that, and Snape muttered a not-quite-convinced 'Finite Incantatem' under his breath.

"What the hell are you doing here, Black?"

Snape spat the question venomously at the still-dizzy Black, who was sitting up looking very confused. Black looked up and his expression darkened.

"Oh. It's you."

"Yes, Black, it's me. Unlike you, I'm supposed to be here. Albus explained it all to you. Remember?"

Black stared slightly bemused at Snape, who was shaking with rage. "I must have Apparated on top of you." He gave his short, bark-like laugh. "Hah! It seems I do always end up on top, doesn't it?"

Snape stared. The tirade of insults that had been forming froze on his lips, and he mouthed wordlessly. Black grinned evilly. "I wish you could see the expression on your face now." He stood up smoothly and advanced on Snape using the advantage of his height to loom very effectively over the other man, who looked ready to kill.

A rustle in the blackberry bush startled both men, and they turned in the direction of the sound. Remus Lupin emerged from the shadow, a good-sized rat dangling by its tail from his hand. He frowned slightly at the sight of the apparent argument, but his voice sounded as quiet and polite as ever.

"Good evening, Severus. Sirius, it looks as though Peter's back in our midst. I found him back there, just lying in the undergrowth."

"I stunned him", Snape said through clenched teeth. His face was livid.

"You did? Well, thank you, Severus. I think we can go back to Grimmauld Place, then."

"I found him. I stunned him." Snape was positively spluttering. "You have no business here."

Lupin did not reply, but Black prodded the dangling rat with his finger and said, a trace of unveiled amusement in his voice: "That was very good of you, Snape. I'm sure this will be a feather in your cap, as soon as we hand Wormtail in."

Snape took a deep, shaky breath. A muscle in his jaw was twitching, but he regained control, and when he spoke, it was in a fairly civilised tone. "You know, Black, there's a reason why Albus has asked me to go and look for the rat. Apart from his ridiculous wish to keep you safe, he knows well enough that you can't be expected to act reasonably and that you'd be most likely to finish Pettigrew off before he can be of any use for the Order."

"I don't think it is any of your concern, Snape," Black said in a low voice, "what I'm going to do with the rat! If I wanted to kill him -"

"- you would certainly do so. We know you have no scruples whatsoever", interrupted Snape acidly. "You might want to try and use your friend as a murder weapon again, like you've -"

The rest of his sentence was lost in a groan as the air was knocked out from him by Black once again, who had spun around and slammed Snape against the nearest tree.

"You scum," Black growled in the same low voice. "You sick bastard! You enjoy this, don't you? Do you get off by the idea of causing others pain? You leave Remus alone, understand?"

Black's right hand was pinning down Snape's wand-arm to the wall. His left arm was pressed across the other man's throat, his hand clutching the hem of Snape's robe in a tight grip. They stared in each other's eyes, panting heavily. Both suddenly struck by the resemblance to their last bodily encounter in Black's kitchen.

Snape's free arm was curled up in front of his chest, and with surprising strength from a man who spent most of his life at a desk, he suddenly pushed Black's arm away, landing a heavy blow on Black's chin and causing his head to fall back, neck on the brink of snapping.

Before the opponents could go for another attack, the gap between their bodies was filled by Remus Lupin, who, moving with cat-like grace himself, had leapt between them, pressing his hands on their respective chests and pushing both men apart.

Being pushed apart with little effort, Snape and Black were both confronted with the often forgotten fact that Lupin was, indeed, not human. His physical strength, usually tucked away and buried under the layers of a lithe body, loose robes, and good manners, appeared in full effect when he separated them in one smooth, almost casual, motion. He was trembling with fury, however.

"I will hurt you both," he whispered. "You know I will."

The vibrant tension visibly vanished from the lines in Black's body. He looked down on his friend's hand pressed flatly against his chest. Lupin's fingers were ever so slightly curled, his nails applying painful pressure on Black's chest. Black bit his lower lip. Took a hesitating step back.

Something like triumph lit up Snape's features. The corner of his mouth twitched suspiciously, but in that moment, Lupin directed his burning gaze at him, and Snape froze, straightened up to his full height, and brought up his hand to wrap his fingers around Lupin's wrist. With the tree at his back, he could not retreat like Black had done. Instead, he motioned Lupin's hand down slowly, carefully, like a man dealing with a wild beast.

They had not broken their eye contact until Lupin's hand had left Snape's personal space for good. Snape's black eyes flashed briefly, his mouth twitched. He did not say anything, though.

"Don't you dare make me an issue in your displays of atrocity." Lupin's hoarse voice carried audibly through the darkness.

V.

They Apparated in the Shrieking Shack. Snape had raised objections against Black's coming along, but Black had insisted. When the argument had threatened to get out of hand, Lupin had solved the matter by simply Dissaparating, and they were forced to follow suit. As result of a silent agreement, Lupin was carrying Pettigrew, on whom he had cast a spell that prevented him efficiently from assuming his human form, and who was, in addition, bound by magical cords. After their experience two years previously, neither of them wanted to take any unnecessary risks.

The passage leading to the Whomping Willow was still open, as Lupin was surprised to hear. He had expected that after Black had used the tunnel to break into Hogwarts, the Headmaster might have wanted to prevent any such occurrences in future. Snape, however, descended the stairs confidently, followed by the mildly astounded Lupin, and Padfoot was forming the rear, his low, threatening growl reverberating between the narrow walls and low ceiling. When they had reached the Headmaster's office, each man was so tired of the presence of the respective others, that Dumbledore's offer of tea and a lemon drop was for once accepted with little impatience and much relief.

"So, there he is", Dumbledore said quietly, as the limp rat body was placed on his desk. "Your way to freedom, Sirius." He raised his eyes and smiled, rather sadly. The brim of his ridiculous hat had ridden down his forehead as he bend his head to inspect Pettigrew closer. The whiteness of his hair and the lines of his face seemed more pronounced than ever and his wrinkly hand examining Peter gently was trembling slightly. Black drew in a sharp breath and Lupin and Snape exchanged a hasty nervous glance, before they averted their eyes, embarrassed.

"Well, I'd better inform Cornelius, hadn't I", Dumbledore said in the same quiet, flat voice. "Severus, Remus, will you come with me? Sirius must go back to the headquarters, of course. There is the significant risk we might run into an over-enthusiastic Auror at the Ministry."

He had not uttered one word about Black's acting against his wish by leaving the safety of his house, nor had he questioned them about the occurrences that had lead to their cooperation.

Black, who had braced himself all the way to the castle for the necessity of offering justifications and excuses, felt oddly put-off when he realised they were not required.

Snape did not let go without a fight. "Headmaster, surely you remember that it was my task and my responsibility to catch Pettigrew and that Lupin's and Black's sudden appearance could have ruined the entire undertaking" he said in a low tone, barely moving his teeth apart, as though he did not want Lupin and Black to hear. "I had stunned him successfully when they both Apparated and Black knocked me down. Who, as I might remind you, isn't supposed to leave his mother's house."

"Severus, you three are no longer at school, and Sirius wasn't out of bounds. I can't give him detention just because he endangered his life -"

"He endangered my life", Snape spat. "Is this still worth nothing?"

"Severus", Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Severus. Your life is worth everything to me. So is Sirius'. And so", he raised his finger pointedly, "is even Peter's."

Dumbledore used the fallen silence to pull out two items out of a desk drawer, which he held presented to them. "This, Sirius, is the Portkey that will bring you back to Grimmauld Place", he handed Black an old, ragged kitchen towel that looked like part of a house-elf's garment. "And this is for us. We will Portkey to the Ministry and talk to Cornelius Fudge."

"And if he doesn't want to listen?" asked Lupin softly.

"He has to", Black said fiercely.

"He has to", echoed Dumbledore.

After the others had left, Sirius remained standing in the centre of the room, staring at the patterns on the carpet and kicking it rhythmically with the tip of his heavy boot.

"There's no need to smear mud on Albus' carpet, really", sounded Phineas Nigellus' cultivated drawl. Sirius turned around to face his great-great-grandfather who was leaning against his frame gracefully, fanning himself with his silken gloves. "It's not his fault everything goes wrong. He's trying hard, poor fellow."

"Not everything", Sirius said pointedly.

"Excuse me?"

"Not everything is going wrong. We captured Wormtail tonight, as I'm sure you've overheard, and I'll be free soon."

Nigellus raised one elegantly arched eyebrow, but remained silent.

Sirius reached for his Portkey. "Well. I see you at home, I suppose", he said in a biting tone and gripped the kitchen towel.

VI.

Sirius decided against drinking and put the bottle of Firewhisky back on the shelf. For one hour and twelve minutes he had been pacing the floor of Buckbeak's room impatiently, waiting, waiting for anything. Any sign that they had arrived safely and that Dumbledore was now negotiating the terms of his trial. Peter's trial.

Pacing restlessly, he only stopped every now and then to viciously kick the wardrobe, the table leg, or the wall, until he annoyed Buckbeak so much that the Hippogriff started ruffling his feathers and tossing his head.

"Sorry, Buckbeak", Sirius came over and sat next to the Hippogriff, placing a calming hand on the animal's glossy neck. "I know I'm irritating you. But I promise, as soon as I'll have my freedom back, I'll make sure you are freed from this room, as well. If only to sneak into the garden from time to time."

The Hippogriff clacked his mighty beak in response.

Sirius sighed and leaned his forehead against Buckbeak's neck. "I know it's hard to be trapped here. But there's nothing we can do. Nothing I can do, at least, and no-one else cares."

Buckbeak made a soft sound in the back of his throat and stretched his neck, closing his eyes lazily under Sirius' gently stroking hand.

The short moment of peace and quiet was rudely interrupted by the loud outburst of abuses downstairs, and Sirius jerked up. "They're back", he whispered. His fingers flexed involuntarily around a handful of Buckbeak's feathers, and the Hippogriff protested. "Sorry." Sirius jumped to his feet. "Sorry, Buckbeak, I've got to go!"

Approaching the kitchen, he saw from the corner of his eye Molly Weasley usher the children away, looking nervous and flustered. He stopped in front of the door, wiped his hair from his face, and, taking a deep breath, pushed the door open.

Sirius would have laughed at the tableau before his eyes, had the situation not been so grave. They all seemed to be frozen in mid-step. Lupin stood so close before him Sirius had almost bumped into him the moment he entered the kitchen. Over Remus' shoulder, he could see the small, pale face of Tonks who looked apprehensive. Shacklebolt and Moody were there, too, both balancing in awkward positions, seemingly fixed on the spot from the moment of Sirius' entrance. Unsurprisingly, Snape was looking unruffled and cold, as he was standing next to the fireplace on the spot where... Where it had happened. Sirius' eyes locked with Snape's, and neither looked away.

"I was just about to come and get you, Sirius", Remus said, moving aside and making way for Sirius. As though on clue, the whole scene unfroze. Mad-Eye passed a cup of tea he was holding to Shacklebolt, who passed it on to Tonks, who passed it on to Snape, who put it down on the mantelpiece. His gaze never wavered.

"Mother", Sirius explained curtly. "She's more reliable than every doorbell."

Everyone forced a small, fleeting smile on their faces, but the silence that fell after Sirius' word weighted more heavily then ever before.

"Just tell me already!" Sirius growled impatiently.

"Sirius, Cornelius was very unreasonable", Lupin began, and stopped as Sirius' shoulders sagged.

"He didn't believe one word, Black. We forced Pettigrew to transform, and even then, Fudge insisted that we were making up vicious lies, trying to ridicule the jurisdiction system and with it the entire Ministry, and that we were a bunch of - what was his expression - ah, raving lunatics, and Dumbledore was the maddest of the lot."

"What happened then?" Sirius asked in a clipped, dry voice.

"We had to obliviate Fudge." Sirius startled, surprised, as Shacklebolt's deep voice sounded next to him. He had not noticed the tall man moving towards him. Shacklebolt put a cup of tea in his hand and indicated a chair.

"We were lucky Kingsley was there. He reacted quickly enough, before Fudge could call other Ministry officials and force us to erase more memories or undertake more drastic measures", explained Lupin, who had seated himself beside Tonks. "He was the one to cast the Memory Charm on Fudge."

"Yes, I'm quite good at those", Shacklebolt's voice held a trace of darkly humour.

"Dumbledore had to stay there to make sure the memory modification had worked out all right", added Lupin. "The Minister for Magic is well protected by extra-security spells applied by Mediwizards every few months to make sure he is safe from possible assaults by Dark wizards."

"But what now?" Sirius asked rather helplessly. "They're bound to leave Wormtail free if you left him there."

"Left him there? Sirius, what do you think we are? Amateurs? Of course we didn't leave him there, he's right here, placed under a strong sedation spell. We only have to decide where to store him until we need him." Lupin indicated a small box with air holes punched in the lid.

A weak smile appeared on Sirius's face, spreading wider and wider, until he was positively spluttering with laughter, bent double over the table.

"He's gone mad", Tonks whispered to Lupin. He shook his head.

"Sirius? Are you all right?"

"Where to store him?" Sirius managed, his shoulders shaking. "Why, I think this suits him just well."

"It's not safe, though. We'd have to place an unbreakable charm on it, and it has to be replaced every time after the box has been opened. Someone would have to take the responsibility for him and to make sure he doesn't escape", Shacklebolt objected.

"Ron could", Lupin said with a small twisted smile and a sideways glance at Sirius. Sirius sniggered in response.

"Tell you what, guys", growled Mad-Eye from his position by the sink. "I've got this trunk, as I'm sure you know. We could keep him there, nice and safe, and when we need him, we will just pull him out and have him ready at hand."

Every head turned to him in amazement, and Moody shrugged. "It's a good idea, even though it's plagiarised", he said gruffly.

"Where do you want to keep him, then? Are you taking him back home?" Tonks asked.

"I need the trunk, it holds many valuable items", Moody looked around at them. "And I don't trust you youngsters to keep an eye of him. This is not funny!" he added glaring at the still sniggering Sirius.

VII.

Black's mirth did not last long. During the next meeting of the Order, he sat apathetically in his chair and was not showing any reaction to neither good reports from McGonagall, who had managed to find allies in an ancient Druid Congregation from the Scottish Highlands, nor to Snape's caustic remarks about people who were risking their lives so others could live in safety.

After the meeting, Black disappeared back in Buckbeak's room, which caused McGonagall, who was worrying about a favourite ex-pupil, to confer with Dumbledore. Molly Weasley joined them, lamenting the exhausting situation in general and Sirius' strenuous mood swings in particular, until Minerva snapped and told her to go and spend twelve years in Azkaban and then come back and maintain a level character before she dared complain about Sirius. "And don't forget you're staying in his house", she added pointedly.

It had been by pure chance that Snape had witnessed this conversation. After the meeting, he wanted to talk to Dumbledore in private, and waited impatiently for Minerva and Molly to finish their wailing about Black. He had not intended to eavesdrop, but their voices were rather loud and it was not his fault that his hearing was excellent. So Black was highly depressive? No less was to be expected, and he had suspected that much himself, but it was somehow heartening to hear it from others. His spirits rose and even the corners of his mouth twitched in a faint imitation of a smile.

He left a short note for Albus and made his way up the stairs.

The Weasley brats were loitering in the upstairs corridor and cowered at his sight as though he was about to deduct House points. In passing, he heard the distinct muttering of "What is he doing here?", and "Greasy git!", and - the most annoying of all - "Oh, honestly, Ron! He works for the Order and Dumbledore trusts him!" He gave them a glare which held the promise of long and painful detentions.

At the door to the Hippogriff's room, he hesitated for the fraction of a second, before he knocked and entered. As expected, the Hippogriff was spread on the bed, and the shaggy mongrel was lying next to it. He raised his head slightly on Snape's entrance but did not acknowledge the man's presence in any other way.

Snape sneered down at the black dog for a few moments, and as that did not elicit any reaction, he took in a few more steps further into the room. He looked around haughtily, walked over to the glass cabinet and started examining the objects on the shelves. Some of them looked familiar. Snape was sure he had seen such a serpentine filigree fork like that one on the top shelf in Lucius Malfoy's hand before; if someone else than it's rightful owner would try to eat with it, it would spring to life and wriggle all the way down into the unfortunate victim's stomach. Usually not further down, because they would have died on severe stomach bleeding by then.

"You know, Black", he began at last, "as displeased as I am that you've managed to escape from Azkaban, I'm starting to see the benefits of the new situation." He turned around to face Padfoot's still form on the bed. "At least in Azkaban, you were a true captive, a convict whose position in life was clear. They say you maintained your sanity in there." Snape's lip curled up in a sneer. "I, of course, have my own opinion as to this. And your anger - and undoubtedly your hope - helped you remain focused on a goal." He broke up and stared at the dog as though trying to read its mind.

"I wonder", his voice had gone very soft and silky, "how long you will maintain what little remainder of sanity there is here, at this place. You trusted them, didn't you? Trusted Dumbledore to help you out, trusted Lupin to take you back as a best friend without any reproaches, trusted Fudge to show justice where justice is due, trusted the whole Order to become your new family, your pack. Even trusted me to be the means of proving your innocence", he snorted. "And what happened? They threw you back in prison, and this time, there is no escape. This is what the safe haven was supposed to be, after all. The goal you've fought so hard to reach. Here you are, then, living as a dog again, sleeping by a beast in a decaying room that belonged to the woman you've hated all your life. I must say, I could not have established a better arrangement myself."

He turned his head and startled slightly on seeing Black lying on his back beside the Hippogriff. "I've never trusted you", Black said in a bleak, empty voice.

They stared at each other for a few long minutes until Black finally spoke in the same deadened voice: "Get out of here, Snape. I have no wish to talk to you."

"This doesn't matter, because I have the wish to talk to you", Snape said smoothly. "I want to tell you a lot of things, things you miss out, because your life is confined within this rotten house."

For the first time this evening, a spark of the old fire returned to Black's eyes. "I don't think someone who spends all their life between a dungeon and Death Eater parties could tell me what's going on in the real world."

Snape smiled unpleasantly. "Nice try, Black, but it takes more to convince me that you don't crave for leaving this place, even if it were only for a trip to the Hogwarts dungeons."

"The Hogwarts dungeons", Black said more loudly, sitting up, "are about the last place on earth I would want to visit."

His right hand had automatically made for his wand lying on the bedside table. Snape's eyes followed the motion, but he did not move a muscle.

"Very well, Black. Maybe I'm mistaken." Black looked up in alarm. "Maybe you really don't want to get out of here. Maybe you enjoy the company of your... animal more than you would enjoy the company of a human."

The insult was too clear to ignore. Black jolted up from the bed and gripped a handful of Snape's robes, pulling the other man closer.

"What is it you want here, Snape?" he growled.

"My intention was to have a civilised conversation with you, Black, but apparently, you have long forgotten what these words mean." Snape was struggling against Black's grip, his fingers curled firmly around the other's wrist, but he did not make any attempt to make use of his wand.

"Oh really?" Black let his own wand fall to the floor and wrapped his now free hand around Snape's, forcing his fingers open and causing him to drop his wand, as well. Snape did not fight it. "What is it you really want, Snape?"

The black eyes widened, and Snape's tongue darted out briefly, moistening his lips. "I told you already, I'm here because there are some things you should hear. And since no-one among your friends is prepared to confront you with the truth, I thought -"

"I understand. Your pestering me with your presence is merely a Samaritan attempt to enlighten me in my dimness and put me out of my misery with your words, is that it?" Black tightened his grip and pulled Snape even closer. "So why do I think that this mouth of yours would be better occupied with something entirely different than talking?"

Snape's eyes flashed. "This only serves to prove my point, Black. You are losing what little humanity is left in you. You aren't even capable of solving a conflict without resorting to physical violence."

Abruptly, Black let go of Snape's robes causing the other man to lose his equilibrium. Snape tumbled a few steps back, regained control, and tossed his head to shake off a few strands of hair that were clinging to his face. When he looked up, Black was standing quite still, watching him from narrowed eyes. In his outstretched hand, he held Snape's wand. Snape took it hesitantly.

"What is this all about?"

"I don't want you to say that I attacked an unarmed man."

"Going to attack me, are you?" Snape straightened up to his full height as Black was eyeing him with a feral expression on his face.

"That's what you expect me to do, isn't it? For once, I attempt to rise to your expectations."

Snape did not retreat nor did his gaze flicker when Black invaded his personal space, advancing slowly yet purposefully. He stopped within a few inches from Snape, his burning gaze never leaving the other man's face.

"What is it you want, Black?"

"You on your knees."

Snape snorted disbelievingly. Black leaned in closer, and Snape reacted on instinct. He charged. His hand wrapped itself around Black's arm and he pushed the other man away using the full weight of his body. Black stumbled backwards, and the impact sent them both falling onto the bed in a tangle of long limbs. Snape's breath tickled Black's neck.

"On my knees, huh?" Snape purred huskily into Black's ear. Black shivered.

"Please."

Snape glided down the length of Black's body bonelessly. His hands slid along Black's chest and stomach opening his dishevelled robe, and finally busied themselves with Black's belt. Snape ripped open the fly and plunged his hand inside. His hand met hot dampness and he half-sighed, half-snorted. Black spread his legs further, pushing himself up the bed slightly. "Move away, Buckbeak", he growled. And then: "Aah!"

"Ouch!" Snape's tongue had just snaked out and licked firmly across the patch of pale skin right above the waistband of Black's pants, when in the next moment, he jerked his head away holding his nose. "You nearly broke my nose, you idiot! Hold still! These hipbones are hard."

"Shut up. Go on."

"Manners, Black -"

Black's fingers entangled themselves in Snape's hair and he pressed the dark head down onto his groin. "Now!"

Snape's face collided with the hard cock precisely accentuated under the thin cotton. He inhaled sharply and circled his hands around Black's hips, pulling on the material. "Black. You've got to help me here."

Obediently, Black closed his legs and lifted his pelvis from the bed. Snape did not linger over removing Black's trousers and pants completely; he merely pulled them down low enough to make space for himself and pushed Black's legs apart. The thick, heavy erection was bobbing right in front of his face, and Snape cupped Black's hipbone with one hand, his thumb pressing into the sensitive hollow underneath. Black gave a thin keening sound. Snape bent his head over the dripping cock and spit on it.

"Heh! What -" Black's attempt to jerk away was prevented by Snape's hand holding him firmly in place.

"Shh. Hold still!"

In the next moment, Snape's thin white hand was fisting Black's now-slick cock forcefully, the saliva serving as a more than sufficient lubricant. Black groaned from deep within his chest, forcing his torso into a perfect arch as he almost came off the bed.

"If you don't stop twitching there like mad, I will have to use both hands to keep you still!"

"Nnngh."

Snape smirked and parted his lips as he pushed his hand all the way down to the base of Black's erection, where he stilled it, and took the silky head in his mouth. He repositioned himself over Black's cock, turned his head to the left, and sucked in deeply until his lips met his own hand. There, he bit down.

"Ohsweetmerlinholyfuckshit!" Black's outcry was accompanied by a sharp tug on Snape's hair, as he lifted off the bed again. "Nng", he added, lowering down slowly.

Snape had pulled away and was watching Black questioningly. "I swear, Black, you are impossible. How am I supposed to do a good job, if you keep up your attempts of breaking my nose?"

Black looked down at him, his eyes glazed over with lust. "Just. Do it", he panted. His head fell back on the bed. Buckbeak croaked indignantly and shifted slightly away.

Snape's mouth was back on Black's cock in the next instant. He sucked in the whole prick while one hand slid down to cup Black's balls. The other hand snaked up to push Black's shirt up and bare his stomach, and returned to its former place where it remained wrapped firmly around the bony hip, for safety reasons. Black's hollow stomach and thin chest were heaving with rapid, flat breaths, but he managed to keep his pelvis down. Snape gave Black's balls a firm squeeze and brought his hand back up to grab his cock. Black was gasping frantically, open-mouthed, and Snape pulled his head away as the thick seed spurted all over his hand, Black's stomach and chest.

"Oh Merlin", Black panted a few moments later. Snape had not risen from his knees, but merely shifted his head, which now rested on Black's side. His hand was drawing lazy circles in the semen covering the soft belly. Black gave a strangled half-laugh and looked down.

"That was. This was -"

"Your first intimate contact since you were sent to Azkaban?" Snape supplied, his hand sliding down Black's abdomen.

"That too. But that's not what I wanted to say. Mind-blowing, I think, was the expression."

"Not much to blow, then", muttered Snape.

"What was tha- Ah! God!" Black's question broke up abruptly, as Snape's spunk-slick finger drove all the way up his arse.

Black's spine straightened and his stomach tightened visibly. He let out his breath in a long hiss. Snape raised his head and looked Black in the eyes.

"Yes? No?" The dark eyes held a strangely serious expression.

Black lower lip was trapped between his teeth. He was holding his breath. He held Snape's unflinching gaze for a moment, and then his shoulders, stomach and hands relaxed visibly. He nodded and lay back again. Snape wiggled his finger experimentally.

"You've got to relax all your muscles, you know." Without the customary edge of sarcasm in it, Snape's silky purr had an oddly calming effect.

Black nodded mutely and let out a deep breath. The finger inside him shifted its position slightly and Snape pulled back a bit. He held still for a moment and pushed back inside. Black's muscle clenched around him and Black whimpered.

Snape withdrew his finger entirely, wiping it discreetly on the sheet. He crawled up the bed and came to rest beside Black, whose shirt he started to unbutton. Black was not meeting his gaze but merely gripped him around the wrist. "What are you doing?"

"As you had me on my knees, I believe it would be reasonable to expect the favour to be reciprocated, don't you think?"

"I can suck you off with my shirt on."

"Oh, but I don't want you to suck me off."

Black became very still. "What do you want, then?" he asked in a tight voice.

"I want you on your knees. Or is this too much to ask for?"

The challenge was unmistakable. Black's face closed and he sat up. "Do you want to fuck me?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "We will see about that." And as Black did not abandon his hostile demeanour, he added. "Black. I know you have a low opinion of me. But has anything I've done to you on this bed so far indicated that I would take you by force?"

"All right", Black said cautiously after a long pause. He pulled off his shirt and looked at Snape as though challenging him to make a remark. Snape, however, remained silent. His expression did not flicker as he took in the awkward angles of Black's once chiselled, now emaciated torso. The collarbone appeared to have been badly broken once and never properly mended; it stuck out in an ugly angle. As Black bent forward to undo his shoelaces and pull off his trousers, every single vertebra jutted out visibly. Snape lifted his hand and reached out to touch Black's back. He stopped in mid-motion, thought better of it, and withdrew his hand just in time before Black turned around.

"Shall we take this off, then?" Black tugged at Snape's robe. Snape shrugged.

Black started to gradually peel Snape from the many layers of his garments. His hands moved more business than lover-like along the other man's body until Snape lay before him pale and naked, and not much to look at, really. Unlike Black, whom nature had designed to be a broad-chested, strongly built man, Snape was thin and narrow from the outset, and with his long limbs and almost hairless skin, looked rather like a lanky schoolboy than a grown-up man. His very prominent erection was the most imposing thing about him, and Black leaned over it lapping off the leaking pre-come. Snape watched him, eyes murky with desire.

"No, wait." A hand on his shoulder stopped Black. He raised a questioning eyebrow. "On your knees, remember?"

Black complied reluctantly and Snape crawled over to kneel beside him. He put his hand between Black's shoulder blades and gently pushed him down from his kneeling position until Black ended up on his hands and knees. Snape grunted irritably. "Does this beast have to share the bed with us? It's rather confined on here, don't you think?"

"Move over, Buckbeak", Black pushed against the Hippogriff's flank, and Buckbeak obediently shifted away.

"You know, Black, you're really good with animals", Snape said conversationally, while his hand stroked all the way down Black's spine in a comforting gesture. Then, without further ado, he thrust his tongue in the cleft of Black's arse. Black gasped in shock, but Snape had anticipated the violent jerk forward and had clutched the other's hips firmly. "Stay here", he murmured against the soft flesh, and the vibration sent a trail of shivers down Black's spine.

Soon, Black was spread out on his front, legs wide apart, and was humping the mattress in time with the thrusts of Snape's tongue. Through his delirious haze, he hardly noticed that Snape's stroking fingers had moved down from his back and over his arse, and only startled as one finger was probing his slicked entrance. His muscles tensed.

"You're not helping matters here, Black." Snape had in vain tried to insert his finger. The tight ring of muscles only let him in to the first digit, before he felt Black squirm away uncomfortably.

"You do it better", Black said in an annoyed voice into the pillow.

"Very well", Snape sighed irritably. "But push this brute from the bed, he really puts me off."

"Why, Snape, the slimy pickled things in your office are not much more pleasant to the eye."

"I'm not in the habit of indulging in such activities in my office. And they don't glare at me accusingly, either."

Snape positioned himself on the now Buckbeak-free bed, a pillow under his pelvis causing his arse to jut out in the air. Black flattened his palm over Snape's neck, smoothing down his shoulders, along the spine, and stopped at the small of his back. If one did not have to look in his face, Snape was not quite as unattractive, really. He had rather fetching shoulder blades. Black sucked on the fingers of his free hand, wetting them profusely, and spread Snape open.

He was indeed relaxed. Black slid one finger inside, and the muscle readily gave way to the pressure. Inside, Snape was tight and hot, and... good. So good. Black groaned.

Snape was groaning too, into the pillow. He lifted up from the bed and impaled himself on Black's finger more deeply. Black withdrew and Snape followed, and as Black thrust two fingers back in, he hit the gland that made Snape gasp loudly and grab a fistful of blanket. Black leaned forward.

"I've got to fuck you now", he panted.

"Ah. Yes."

"Tell me when it hurts."

Black sat back on his heels between the other man's open legs and coaxed Snape's pelvis higher. He spit in his hand and spread the moisture all around Snape's entrance. Slowly, he inched himself inside, until he was fully sheathed and gleaming with sweat from the effort of holding back. He leaned over and covered Snape's body with his own. "All right?" He whispered into the ear visible in the tangle of black hair.

Snape's arm reached around and his hand gripped Black's elbow. "Wait." He took a few steadying breaths. "All right."

The first thrust felt a bit awkward, like pulling off soaked dragon-hide gloves, but Black soon found a good angle and a nice, not-too fast rhythm. Snape's long fingers were clenching and unclenching and he was pushing back rhythmically. The long, pale back looked rather tempting, and Black leaned forward and curled around Snape.

"What're you doing", Snape's voice was muffled.

"You feel good", Black muttered hazily. He was rubbing his chest against the smooth skin. Somehow, his face had ended up burrowed in Snape's neck.

"Get off. Can't breathe."

"For Merlin's sake, stop whining! Enjoy."

"Get. Off." Snape made an attempt to push Black off, the muscles in his thin arms flexing.

"All right. You - on top." Black wrapped his arm around Snape's chest and flipped them both over so that he was lying underneath Snape. Snape gave a surprised gasp, but his body reacted automatically, and he slid down a bit to take the whole length of Black's cock up his arse.

A few thrusts later, they had established how to arrange their legs optimally, and whose hand was to fist Snape's cock. Black closed his eyes lazily feeling a mind-boggling orgasm building up. His arm had remained lying loosely across Snape's chest, but he was increasing the pressure gradually. Snape curled his fingers around Black's forearm and squeezed. "Hm? No?" Black whispered.

"Hmm... Yeah", Snape murmured, and the sound of this deep voice, dark with lust, and the fact that Snape's fingers had just entwined with his, pushed Black over the edge. He emptied himself in Snape's body in a huge, rushed gush, and the clenching muscle around his cock milked him from the very last drop. Snape gave a throaty 'Ooh', arched his back, and his semen spluttered all across his belly and chest, and also over their entangled arms.

They fell asleep almost immediately.

"Snape."

"Hm."

"Get off. You're heavier than you think."

"Can't. We're stuck."

"Get off!"

Snape turned his head and his mouth brushed against Black's jaw. "Your Hippogriff is looking at me again."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake", Black gasped exasperated. "Shut up!" A slight incline of his head brought his lips flush against Snape's and he pushed his tongue inside the slick heat before the other had time to react. Snape did not pull back. He leaned in, his shoulder blades shifting smoothly over Black's sweaty chest, and slid his tongue over Black's lips and into his mouth. A deep moan escaped both men simultaneously.

Minutes later, Snape broke the kiss, breathless. Fathomless eyes locked with Black's gaze. "I still don't like you, Black."

"Ditto. Can't stand you." Black yawned.

"And I hate this Hippogriff!" Snape cast a nasty glance at Buckbeak, who was ferreting on the floor for dead rats.

"I think the feeling's mutual." Black propped himself up on one elbow and was watching Snape Summoning his dishevelled garments from bed and floor. Snape had already cast a cleaning charm on himself, and his body showed no traces of sweat and spunk.

"Well", Snape said, standing in the centre of the room, his robes and sneer back in place.

"Well."

"I'll see you next week, then."

"I suppose."

Snape nodded curtly. "Goodbye, Black."

"See you."

The door swung shut, and Black fell back on the pillow. He stretched languidly, yawned widely, and decided he was too tired to gather his clothes. He was just about to change into the familiar, comfortable form of Padfoot, when his gaze fell on his own hand resting on the pillow beside his head. The hand that minutes ago had wanked off Severus Snape as though his life depended on it. Black flexed his fingers, turned his hand palm-downwards, and lifted it to his nose to sniff on it. Oh, but that was good.

Five minutes later, Sirius Black was standing, fully clothed and human-shaped, in his own room. Padfoot was the escape of the last resort, after all, and could wait until there was no hope left.


End file.
